


The Hazel Eye of the Hurricane

by Telltales



Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: F/F, Family Loss, Found Family, Not Lore Compliant, aspects of the 'science' and tech have been modded a little, lore adjacent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-18 12:47:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 19,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29243823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Telltales/pseuds/Telltales
Summary: [Begins a month or two after Loba's addition to the games as the newest Legend/after the events of the broken ghost quest]Past trauma is a publicist’s dream. Personality is money and performance is everything. The blood sport is the easy part. The real world is where the fight for survival happens. Lone wolf Anita Williams is coming to terms with the reality that she may need a squad after all.Ever since new girl Loba Andrade’s explosive entrance into the games, Anita has found herself in the eye of one conspiracy-laden shit storm after another and each time the smoke clears – it always seems to be the two of them standing there.
Relationships: Bangalore | Anita Williams & Mirage | Elliot Witt - Friendship, Loba Andrade & Bangalore | Anita Williams, Loba Andrade/Bangalore | Anita Williams, Lobalore - Relationship
Comments: 35
Kudos: 42





	1. "You're falling for me already."

It was in those first few moments before the fall that Anita truly felt something. A lot of the Legends had a different variation of the same sentiment – how the dive was the best part, how hurtling towards their ‘inevitable demise’ gave them the thrill that kept them coming back for more, et cetera. For Anita it was the promise that she might actually feel something, something more than the nothing she’d been wading through in recent days. Or had it been weeks this time around? There was some familiarity found in this lack of feeling, there was a strange sort of comfort in recognising what her mind was going through from all the times it had happened before. It came to her in irregular cycles. Every now and again, the grind would get to her more than usual and the true extent of her plight here in the Apex Games - in damned Syndicate space - would start to pull Anita back down into the depths. It was a darker descent than the ones taken from the dropship, with the distinct lack of a fun dive trail, but there wasn’t sadness in the darkness she landed in. There was apathy. Sadness, she thought, would have been preferable.

Leaning against a railing watching the sea go by in a blur beneath the dropship, the blue was only interrupted by the odd uninhabited island. Anita’s heavy brain dragged her thoughts through all the years since she’d first earned her place here. She was a veteran of the games and an audience favourite in the current crop of Legends. The brass of the games had done well to spin her story into one the viewers could consistently connect with, as was their way. They spun it well enough that the audience could easily overlook that she was a vet of the wrong side. She had longevity, her numbers were reliable, “G.I’s sell”, is what she’d heard. She was the Frontier War veteran who tragically ‘lost’ her brother and relentlessly fights to find a way back to the rest of her family.

In these dips of hers where her brain finally lost the fight against hopelessness, Anita wondered if she’d ever get out, if she’d ever amass a sum of money great enough to get her back home. Did such a sum even exist? Was she avoiding truly giving her all because the prospect of actually travelling back to Gridiron terrified her? If she didn’t up her kill count or win rate, would she ever even get close? Not before she was an old lady, not before there’d be no one left waiting for her. Was there anyone left waiting for her?

As if on cue, the team of Apex staffers assigned to her today approached and began their ritualistic check of her person, from vitals and final jump jet diagnostics, to wardrobe, to the rep from the protein shake company who sponsored her and always made sure she had a drink before a match. Blisk and his people had supernatural timing sometimes. In his prattling, Witt once told her that he was convinced they’d implanted chips into all their heads while they slept, so that the ‘Asset Retention Team’ could read their thoughts and ply them with gifts and pork chops at the slightest inclination that they might want to leave the games. Anita had rolled her eyes and assured him there wasn’t even an ‘Asset Retention Team’, but now and then his theories proved just weird and concerning enough to be entirely possible.

Her ratings were still as high as they’d ever been, as was her sponsor approval, even with her ‘overcast demeanour’ as the Legend publicist assigned to her had once called it. There had been plenty of decent competition rising through the ranks. Anita sometimes wondered how little she could try, how much she could sail by on bare minimum effort before some suit from some legal department would pull her up for a breach of contract. Sometimes she was tempted.

She cast her gaze over to the latest Legend currently being interviewed by Outlands Television Network in the far end of the dropship lounge. Loba Andrade. This new girl had landed herself right into a position that most Legends had to fight tooth and nail for. Anita had been too hard on her in the beginning and had vowed to put it right, something she was still working on… starting with having her back when it came to the demonic simulacrum, and continuing with shutting down those instantaneous critical thoughts that were just so easy to have whenever Anita so much as looked in Loba’s direction. As it had turned out, new girl had definitely done her share of fighting tooth and nail, but she was still too… perfect.

Ever since that night with the sim, when Loba had gone to face it by herself and Bangalore caught up and provided overwatch, Anita had made it a point to look into the girl’s story. Not the story told the way that the Apex Commission spun it, but what really happened to Loba the person, not Loba the Legend.

It had taken some careful digging and roadblock-evading which had been expected. Each Legend had their own ‘tragic backstory’ which was built upon and dramatized for public consumption by whichever department of the commission dealt with that kind of thing. Anita shouldn’t have been so surprised to learn how tragically accurate the video they made for Loba’s public introduction into the games was. In her deep dive, Anita had found the original security footage from the building where the sim killed Loba’s parents.

She had been pretty horrified to learn that the digital recreation and dramatization of what happened to Loba and her parents that day - the one used for advertisement purposes and broadcast to the whole system - was practically a frame by frame recreation. It was horribly accurate, down to the methods the sim used to kill the Andrade’s, to the authentic terror in the digitally rendered version of young Loba’s eyes. Some of the more horrific and gory aspects had been left out, probably for younger audiences, still Anita wondered how many times Loba had to see that video in her first few weeks here.

She wondered if it had occurred to anyone else exactly how fucked up it was of these people to exploit Loba’s trauma like that. It had been weeks since she’d seen it and Anita still felt like shit for digging up the real footage. It was definitely an invasion of privacy, and ever since she had found it hard to meet Loba’s gaze yet difficult to look away when she did. The only redeeming factor she felt in regards to her actions was the new depth of understanding she felt for the other woman, and the familiarity she found there. Loba’s actions when she first came on the scene, her attitude and her continued determination to avenge her family? Anita got it. Only Anita didn’t have to see the thing that killed her loved ones every day, or cooperate with it.

When Loba caught her looking, it took a second too long for Anita to look away.

“Damn it,” she muttered, trying to find something else in the lounge to focus on.

“Almost done, Miss Williams. Sergeant.”

The nervous voice of the technician currently checking over her jump jets sounded from behind. A young woman from Hammond who reminded her of Ajay.

“Oh, no, you’re good,” Anita began apologetically, trying to carefully shuffle towards the exit of the lounge without jostling too much, but it was too late. When Anita dared look in Loba’s direction again the new girl had already wrapped up her interview with Lisa Stone and was making her way over.

They’d been placed in the same squad for the day’s proceedings five times already. There were enough matches in a day and enough Legends to go around to rationalise two or three similar squad line-ups in a row as coincidences, but six plus? That was pushing it. If it kept happening Anita would think about bringing it up with the Commission… not to complain or anything, but it was starting to-

“Seems as though the universe keeps bringing us together, Sergeant.” Loba completed Anita’s thought for her.

Out of good manners more than anything, Anita acknowledged the new girl with a curt nod, only to notice the other woman’s eyes taking a slow inventory of her outfit.

“This look is working for you, beautiful. The gold accents really compliment your complexion. And I _love_ the leather. Looks tight.”

While Anita watched Loba’s lips form her words, for a moment she didn’t know what the hell she was talking about. Like tight as in ‘good’? Or the leather is tight?

She vaguely remembered dressing herself in her room aboard the dropship. Her outfits for the day, as always, had been hung up in her closet. Labelled and in the order she should wear them per game, as negotiated between her Apex rep and the sponsors who paid her to do so. Apparently she just… hadn’t been mentally present for that. But sure enough, as she glanced down over herself and ran her hands down her chest she was clad all in black, with a naval style jacket complete with gold buttons and trim, a gold mantle over the shoulders and yes, some really tight black pants.

“I miss the hair, though.”

Anita could hear the smirk in Loba’s voice before she looked up to see it, her hand self-consciously running over her freshly shaved head, save for a short strip down the centre. She almost knocked the gold circlet thing off from around her forehead. Forgot that was there, too.

“It’s uh,” she made a gesture with her hand, pretending to recall information that she sure as hell already knew wasn’t in her brain, “I can’t remember the designer. Surprisingly comfortable though.”

“Viceroy,” Loba cut in. “Couture, very expensive.” She started a slow amble to Anita’s left, giving the back of her outfit the slow and not at all subtle scan that she’d afforded the front. “They certainly know what you look good in, I’ll give them that.”

“Thank you.” Anita cleared her throat, affording Loba’s outfit a similar appreciative glance while fussing with the strips of fabric that hung from the hem of her jacket. Anita felt the urge to ask Loba what they were called. She knew they had a name and it seemed like something Loba would know, but she stopped herself.

Loba’s sponsors never seemed to put her in anything that couldn’t be described as tight or revealing. This time Loba was also in a gold and black, though conversely gold was the main colour and the accents were black. Anita tried to ignore a thought that had occurred to her already today, that their outfits had oddly complimented one another on more than one occasion. Her hair was slightly different than usual as well, lighter, still plaited but only to a point where gold ribbon bows gave way to undone wavy ends.

Anita’s mind ran through a list of ways she could return the slew of compliments Loba had sent her way, but they all seemed forced and awkward in comparison and the moment was passing as Loba give a smile and a nod to the staff still working on Anita, the sound of her footsteps and the metallic tap of her cane sauntering away. Loba had a way with words, a way to make people feel as good about themselves as she seemed to feel about herself. Anita was lucky when she managed to get out a comment with so much as a modicum of charm. Bangalore was the one with all the lines, Anita… not so much.

_‘All squads assemble in the launch bay. ETA to Kings Canyon: T-minus three minutes.’_

The voice of the ship computer snapped Anita out of her musings. The gradual increase of foot traffic through the lounge had her eyes scanning for Loba before she lost her. She hadn’t gone too far and was standing with Witt, already looking over her shoulder back at Anita and gesturing a ‘ _Well then?_ ’ with a lift of her brow Anita had come to know well.

Elliott, Mirage, their apparent third squad mate made a loud show of whistling and throwing his arms out wide as Anita approached.

“Wow-ow-ow wee, _Bangs_ ,” he crowed, “Looking _good_.” He let his last word drag out in a sing-song voice as she reached the two of them, making a point to roll her eyes at him as she kept walking.

“Not as good as me though, right Lobes?”

Anita heard the two of them fall into step behind her as she took the ramp down the two decks to the launch bay, where the other Legends were already grouping up and taking their positions together. Some were already rock-paper-scissoring for jump master. Anita returned the ritualistic fist-bump Makoa had waiting for her as she passed him.

“I’ll admit it’s true. What you have going on,” Loba gestured at Witt's green shamrock-themed outfit with a wiggle of her fingers, “works for you Elliott, somehow, but what have I told you about calling me Lobes?”

“That you’ll chop mine off if I keep doing it, yadda yadda yadda.”

As they took their places at either side of her, even from a few feet away in their designated drop zones Anita could see the smiles that betrayed their thinly threat-laced back and forth. It didn’t seem to matter how many times a day you made the jump, the moments leading up to it got most-everyone hyped up and ready to go. She could make out the slim form of Octane a few bays ahead, already jumping in place in preparation. Even Bloodhound next to him was lightly bouncing on their heels and shaking out their arms.

_‘Entering Kings Canyon airspace in T-minus sixty-seconds.’_

The standard red warning lights began to flash in the launch bay as hangar crew went about their standard duties, clamping down the railings that sectioned each squad off in their individual drop bays and going through pre-launch checks.

_‘… four, three, two. Legends, you are Go to launch.’_

It was these moments in particular that reminded Anita of her service. Crewmen moving around the deck in the hurried but practiced way they did. The loud rumble of the ships engines, the vibration of the deck plates beneath her boots, the sudden rush of cold wind as squads initiated their drops. The drop pods she’d served in were different but the procedure was all too familiar, even down to the launch console in front of her which was coming online with a bird’s eye view of the island as the ship passed thousands of feet above. Mirage had passed it off to her with an innocent wide smile. As some of the Legends began to recite their signature launch lines back and forth, the ones they would enthusiastically yell for the audience as per their sponsor agreement, Anita – Bangalore – was somewhat grateful for the jarring reminder that things in fact were _completely_ different.

“Alright,” she pressed the screen and a corresponding readout popped up on her heads-up retinal display. For a moment the console seemed to glitch out, the image flashing in and out for a second. It was rare but known to happen every now and again, these ships had been around for some time now. She’d file that away to report to the technicians later. “Ready up…” she waited for the optimum moment to drop, her finger hovering over the launch key – when the display glitched again. This time in her retinal display as well as the physical console.

“Are you guys getting that?”

“Getting what?” Mirage replied, as did Loba with “No?” at the same time.

Bangalore hit the commands that would initiate their launch, tensing her stomach for the drop it was about to experience when the floor would give way beneath them.

It didn’t happen.

They all looked at each other. Even Ajay in the squad ahead of them was looking over her shoulder at them with concern before she too fell below.

“Hit it, Bangs!” Mirage encouraged, “You know I hate it when you leave it to last second!”

“I _did_ hit it!” She shouted over the increasingly powerful force of wind with several drop bays now open to the elements, vacant of their squads already in free fall.

Anita wasn’t concerned just yet. Technology, even in their day and age wasn’t always one hundred percent reliable. She looked around the deck to wave someone over… only to find that all the drop crew had cleared out. This definitely wasn’t standard procedure when there were still Legends in the hangar, but again, not completely abnormal either. It was getting towards the end of the day, maybe they just wanted to get back to their stations and watch the match?

“Where is everyone?” Loba had noticed as well, and as Anita looked over to her, Loba’s gaze was locked on something behind them. The simulacrum. Standing a few rows back in its squad’s drop bay by itself, its teammates apparently not wanting to hang around for whatever it was hanging around for. From what Anita could tell, just to watch them?

They had given its exoskeleton some blue and gold paintwork, and it wore on its head what looked like a disturbing ram skull with large horns which curved around the back of its head, white fur falling over its shoulders as hair. Its glowing yellow eyes were locked onto Loba who stood stock still, until its head snapped with unnatural speed to Anita. She might have flinched if her mind hadn’t made the switch to professional mode, trying to diagnose what the hell was going on. Slowly, Revenant tilted his head sideways as those evil, expressionless eyes bore into her. She couldn’t tell if the tilt of its head was quizzical, or knowing, or conniving. Then he, it, was gone below as well. He hadn’t moved to press his launch button, he must have been automatically ejected. That _was_ procedure.

Yellow warning lights flashed in the now empty hangar bay – bar their squad of three – as a loud siren sounded. It was the one reserved for warning any daydreaming Legends that they were about to run out of island to drop onto, or for Elliott when he was in her squad and Anita wanted to razz him by cutting it close.

Then, like clockwork, even though they were already open, the signal light on each drop bay between the sim’s and theirs began to switch to red in sequence, one after the other signalling the would-be release of each bay door with roughly a second interval between them.

“Why is that happening?” Loba yelled over the wind, starting to turn the bracelet on her wrist as she looked back and forth between Anita and the approaching cause for concern.

“ _Neets_ …” Elliott encouraged, the panic rising in his tone with the brotherly nickname he usually reserved for when it was just them.

He grabbed the console back from her. The moment his hand hit the launch button, both his and Loba’s drop bay doors opened beneath them.

Anita’s did not.

To say that time slowed down would be inaccurate, though it seemed to as Anita was able to scan every line of shock and worry on Loba’s face, her mouth agape as she fell out of view. Elliott hadn’t made it entirely back into his own drop zone when he’d hit the go button, and Anita winced and made a grab for him as his stomach hit the edge of the metal hatch left by the opened doors, the air knocked out of him. His hands slipped uselessly against the smooth metal of the hangar floor as Anita watched in horror as the doors – against usual procedure – began to immediately close with him still between them.

“Anita, come on!” He shouted, frantically reaching out for her even as he lost traction and slid backwards. She wouldn’t make it in time to pull him up or follow him out, even if she dove for him.

“ _Go go go_ ,” she urged, stuck between wanting to go to him and knowing that if she did, one or both of them would be crushed. She had no idea if there were any automated safety protocols in the bay doors, and with the way ship systems seemed to be malfunctioning she didn’t want Witt to test them.

It looked like he was still fighting to pull himself up, but eventually the space Witt occupied seconds before was also empty as the force of wind took him away.

Echoing around her in the hangar was the metallic clang and hydraulic hiss of all currently open drop bay doors closing. Anita was never usually one to panic. She had been trained to keep a calm head in situations far more chaotic than this… but for some reason the image of Elliott falling began to overlay with the image of Jackie, their features interchanging as she tried to focus on what she needed to do, the air beginning to pump more quickly and painfully from her lungs with each exhale.

Reaching once again for the launch console, the readout showed her the dive trails of her two squad mates. Loba’s was a few seconds away, Elliott’s closer still. One left in the drop ship, the option to ‘launch solo’… Then all in the same instant, as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened, the warning lights shut off at the same time as the alarm tone. Before she could slam her fist onto the launch button, all at once every drop bay door opened yet again. Including Anita’s.

_What the hell_?

Her stomach was in her throat when the doors fell open beneath her and she began to plummet. She’d done this a million times before and her body knew what to do before her mind could catch up with what was going on. In dive position, headfirst, arms by her sides Anita could see that her current course would lead her directly down onto the northern mountain range of Kings Canyon. Her retinal display showed her that Artillery was just south. It would take a steep course correction and put her jets through their paces, but she would just make it.

Activating her jump jets, the relief she felt when they roared into life was instantly replaced with terror when that roar gave way to a sputter, then nothing. Even in all her years here, this was a new one.

“Loba, Witt, come in, I’m – “ she grunted, struggling against the wind without the aid of her jump jets proved difficult, “I’m spiralling, jets are out, I can’t –“

She didn’t know if it was a panic attack or the thin air, but for all the wind that entered her mouth when she opened it to speak, her lungs couldn’t seem to retain any oxygen. Her vision began to blur, even behind the visor she wore for protection from the wind when her chosen outfit didn’t afford her any. Her eyes began to water, brows furrowing against a growing pain in her forehead. As darkness began to encroach from the edges of her vision, Anita’s prevailing thought was one of hope that Jackson didn’t experience anything like this during his last fall.

A painful collision, a familiar scent, and then it was lights out Sergeant Williams.


	2. Dropped, Shocked and... Fucked?

_What was that?_

_Atmospheric debris. Happens all the time out here. Come on, we’ve got three-quarters of the hull we still have to get through, and we haven’t even gotten to the-_

_Sergeant, stand back._

_I’m telling you, you’re worried about nothing-_

_I gave an order, Sergeant._

_Copy._

_God damnit, ‘Nita, get the hell away from the-_

“What the _hell_ was that?”

Jackson’s voice was nearby, breathless. No, no, Elliot’s. She could hear his footsteps as they shuffled against what sounded like concrete with a layer of dirt. She must have ran for her life over every surface in King’s Canyon by now. Bangalore had some cocksure taglines in her arsenal about being so good she could do things with her eyes closed, but she’d bet she could actually navigate this place blindfolded after so long.

A beat later, Elliot’s voice again. “Why haven’t they zapped her back to the ship? Her kit is obviously faulty. Something’s seriously iffy about all this, Lobes.”

There was a softness beneath her cheek. Warm smooth skin, a familiar floral perfume with something else… an earthier musk. A chest rapidly rising and falling, a body trying to move beneath her. She tried to open her eyes, the blinding light of her surroundings making her wince away from it.

“I’m glad you were paying attention to the last thirty seconds.”

Loba?

“Now will you help roll her off of me? She’s heavier than she looks.” It was Loba, her words were vibrating nicely through Anita’s skull.

“Do you think anyone saw us land here? We are so, so screwed.” She heard the shuffles grow closer, Elliot’s peppermint cologne finding her on the displaced air his approach brought with him. “Definitely demonetised for this match.”

“Elliot!”

“Right, right, sorry. Helping. We should get her out of the open.”

Strong hands gripped her beneath the arms and Anita felt her stomach lurch, but not in response to the movement. She somewhat registered the heels of her boots scraping across the ground, she was being dragged? Everything smelled so _strong_. Loba’s perfume… patchouli? Elliot’s peppermint, the distinctive notes of smoke and ozone in King’s Canyon air.

“Nope not Jackie, Neets. Just Witt.”

Was he responding to her? She hadn’t said anything. Had she?

Anita didn’t so much mind the discomfort she felt when she was laid flat on her back. Eventually, the cold surface she could feel beneath her was kind of nice. The hard lines of her smoke launcher against her left shoulder, her jump jets against her lower back and the rest of her gear pressing into her was helping Anita to orient herself somewhat. She could feel herself literally coming to her senses… most of them. She kept her eyes tightly shut, fearful of that painful light. It was almost as though the tighter she kept them shut, the more successfully she might ward away the pounding headache she could feel banging against her forehead from the outside in. The longer she held still, the more confident she was that she’d be able to keep the room from spinning when she eventually took it in. Someone was holding her hand tightly, she tried to focus on that.

“Hey, Neets, ‘Nita?” She could feel a cool palm press against her cheek, followed by light slaps that were increasing in strength and frequency. “You with us?” She heard the distinctive hum of Witt firing up his holo-emitters. “How many fingers am I holding up?”

“Will you stop that?” Loba cut in, the slaps to her face replaced with a warmer hand against her forehead. Loba’s breaths were close, a little laboured. “I’m going to go outside, jump to the sandbags across the way. Make sure no one’s around.”

The hand in hers loosened, she tried to hold onto it. No use. Loba’s voice was a little further away when she spoke next.

“If I’m not back in two minutes, you get her up, but not before those two minutes, alright?”

A door opened, movement next to her. “Ma’am, yes ma’am.” Elliot again. The gunfire outside was distant, a good sign.

“I'm going to make sure no one’s around to hear. I swear they amplify the noise those syringes make on purpose, and you’re the only one who can go invisible when you administer them.”

“Aw, you do care.”

“Two minutes.” The door closed again.

The longer she continued to lay motionless, the more hopeful Anita was that when she opened her eyes again they will have adjusted. She’d experienced concussion before, from mild to days-long. She’d awoken from anaesthetic multiple times, from being punched out, even from an induced coma after a bad mission. Whatever _this_ was, it was nothing like any of those. Not even like a bad hangover, though that was probably the closest sensation.

“See? She does care.” Elliot repeated from beside her.

“Why?” Anita tried her voice. “Because she noticed you have your uses?”

“Oh hey, a full sentence!” She felt Elliot’s arm encircle her shoulders, her head feeling heavy on her neck as he helped her up into a sitting position. “And no, although that was nice. She didn’t want anyone to hear us in here. And if they did, she didn’t want them to see us. She wants us to be safe,” he sighed with exaggerated contentedness, “I’m just so used to giving. It’s nice to receive.”

That earned him a chuckle. Then a wince. She pressed her fingers into her temples. “You gonna stick me already?”

“ _Sergeant_.”

She sighed, shoving him away from her with as much strength as she could muster. He didn’t move far. “You really are insufferable.”

“It’s a defence mechanism.”

“I know. Still.”

A few moments of silence passed. It did so easily between the two of them, it always seemed to.

“I need meds, Witt.” She would have glanced around the room herself for any syringes laying about, but didn’t want to risk the light. “Hell, I could use one of Silva’s stims.”

Anita lifted a hand up to her brow to shield her eyes even though they were still firmly shut. A memory occurred to her – being a kid on an airbase with her brothers. They had found an old case full of flashbangs and of course, ‘accidentally’ set one off. They’d all screamed, ran into one another. It had devolved into laughter as most of their antics had. If the effects of whatever the hell had happened to her today were anything like that, then a fat load of use she was going to be in a fight.

“Has it been two minutes? Shit, I forgot to keep track.”

Once Elliot had helped her into a sitting position, he returned to his pacing back and forth between the door, one of his dupes mirroring his movements in the opposite direction.

“I’d say it’s been close enough.” Anita let herself recline back down onto her back. Her body wouldn’t let her stay comfortable in one position for long.

“Alright, alright, hold still. If she says anything, you insisted. Forcefully.”

It was a sensation she must have endured a million times, but the forceful application of a revival shot always stung like a mother. For all the facades the games were made up of, from the unnervingly accurate replications of themselves they had to fight, to some of the manufactured inter-Legend rivalries, at least the medication they supplied was the real deal.

Elliot kicked shield cells and ammunition across the floor towards Anita while she patched herself up and made herself as battle-ready as possible. She tried her vision again and it was slowly adjusting, like stepping from a dark room into a well-lit one. A quick scan of the shelves around them told her that they were in the storage room on top of one of the maintenance facilities in Artillery. He was waiting by the door for her, holding it ajar while he kept a lookout.

“Any sign of her?” Anita righted the circlet atop her head, pocketed a few more syringes. Seemed like one of those days.

“Yep. Oh!” He closed the door. “I just remembered, oh man, I cannot wait for you to see the footage of your drop. It was _epic_.”

Anita might have rolled her eyes if she couldn’t feel the vengeful remnants of her headache still lingering.

“I’m pretty sure they will have cut our live feed the moment it went tits-up.”

“Ugh,” Elliot huffed, “that’s what Loba said. Good thing I have some of it saved up here,” he tapped his goggles with a small smile, leaning back against the closed door and holding her gaze with faux solemnity in his voice. “She swooped you out of the air, man. Like a falcon. That’s the bit I managed to capture once I landed. By the time I made it to where you guys plopped, she was just coming-to and you were out cold on top of her. Looked like she took the brunt of the fall for you as well.”

Through his attempt to lace some kind of meaning into his words, Anita could tell that he was enjoying watching her face as she tried to register the information he was giving her.

“She _does_ care.” He repeated yet again, not trying to hide his genuine enthusiasm this time.

Anita was well aware of where his sense of validation was coming from. It had been a beer-fuelled joke at first, to see if they could talk about Loba without mentioning her looks, but in those first few days when Loba came on the scene, even before she had sent them on the errands to find the ‘artefact’, Elliot and Anita had spent more than one evening arguing their respective points when it came to the true nature and morality of one Loba Andrade. Even after so many years, the habits and hypervigilance drilled into her by the IMC had left Anita suspicious and quick to judge. Elliot on the other hand, had always been of the mind that there was something more to Loba, said one of his brothers had been a similar way. He’d even compared the two women, saying that even though their exteriors were guarded and tough in different ways, he saw the same gooey in center in Loba that he did in Anita.

It seemed as though every time Loba operated at a temperature warmer than her usual freezing, Elliot’s theory was further confirmed. With that in mind, Anita wasn’t sure what to think about the implications of Loba’s heroic actions today. So she didn’t.

Looking through the glass in the door Anita was relieved to find that the light sensitivity she had been experiencing had been mostly done away with by the meds. The one time her outfit didn’t come with shades.

“Let’s go, we should regroup.” Anita pulled open the door, instinctively lowering to a crouch and tapping her communicator. It gave a useless click in response. “Lob- Are you fucking kidding me?” She hissed in a low angry whisper.

A quiet snicker came from close behind her. She shot a glare over her shoulder to Elliot who was following in a crouch. He sent a duplicate running and jumping down from the edge of the maintenance building as they approached it. Sometimes it seemed like he did that out of habit rather than any tactical manoeuvre.

“Pissed anyone off lately? I mean, more than usual.” She felt a tap on her shoulder, then saw Elliot offer her his own communicator. “Could someone have a vedn- vendnett- a grudge, against you?”

She accepted the communicator and clipped it onto her collar, handing him her seemingly broken one. At least he’d still be able to hear the conversation.

“No, at least I don’t think so. I mean, maybe.” She stayed low and still, letting her eyes scan over the compound for any sign of movement while she connected the com-unit up with her HUD. She squinted against the sunlight as it bounced off of the smooth concrete surfaces of the artillery compound. No movement.

“I’ve been trying to avoid getting into it, because it’s scary and you were really messed up,” Elliot began and Anita recognised his tone. He was entering his thought palace. “But we should definitely be worried about what happened on the ship, and during the drop, and why you woke up looking like you’d been on a four-day bender. If someone is blatantly- ”

“- There are way too many components to think about right now,” she interrupted, a concerning thought occurring to her. “I’m sure it was an accident though,” she turned to give Elliot a pointed look, “malfunctions happen.” She flicked her gaze to the sky then back to Elliot, who said nothing but nodded his understanding.

Even if their live feed had been cut, it was an inevitability that they were still being watched, most likely listened to, even if Anita’s radio had been cut. The performance never stopped. If she had been targeted by an individual for whatever reason, chances were they’d be making sure whatever plan they had was playing out the way they wanted.

“Elliot, are you there?” Loba’s voice came in over the radio, hushed but clear as day. “It’s been more than two minutes, but I’m betting you got her up before that anyway.”

“Affirmative,” Anita responded, not trying to keep the smile from tinting her tone.

Somewhere in her busy mind Anita acknowledged (and filed away for later) how concerning it was to be so blasé in the aftermath of a possible attempt on her life, not to mention all the sabotage.

“Oh, hello,” a pause, “Lovely. I have an idea.”

After a beat, a series of red markers appeared on their shared optical readouts, indicating the last known position of enemies in the distance. Her ocular display was attempting to play catch-up, showing a glitchy render of Loba’s location further ahead of them in the field as an arrow above her in the distance. At least some of her tech was working. Mostly.

Loba was taking cover between a supply bin and some sandbags, looking through the scope of a sniper rifle towards the area of the marked enemies.

“Witt and I can head your way, gear up,” she nodded towards the stairs that would lead down into the building below them. “We’re running a little low, should avoid contact for now.”

“Get to me, I’ll hook you up.” There was another pause, Anita heard Loba breathing over the communicator, some quiet noises of frustration. “We should discuss my idea in person when you get over here.”

It didn’t take long for the two of them to make it over to Loba. There didn’t seem to be anyone in the immediate vicinity, the squad Loba saw in the distance should have moved further on. They found her inside the building standing with her staff behind her back.

“We’re here, we’re queer, nothing to worry about.” Elliot announced their arrival, throwing his arms wide dramatically. If he hadn’t displayed the presence of mind to at least be flamboyant quietly, she might have smacked him upside the head.

To her credit, Loba deadpanned right back at him. “I’m so relieved.”

“You said you had an idea?” Anita tried to communicate ‘sorry about my dumbass friend’ to Loba with her eyes, trying to steer things towards strategy.

Loba hummed her agreement. “I should say, options. But we’ll need to be quick. The ring is on its way. Just a moment.”

They watched while Loba extended her wolf-staff-cane thing as usual, the way she did whenever she was about to set up her black market boutique. This time however, she did something different. Hands deft in a way that seemed familiar and practiced, Loba removed the bracelet device from her wrist and activated it, bands of metal separating and spinning as she connected it, or inserted it somehow into the staff with a slick ‘click’. Anita didn’t see where it went, or how she made the pieces fit. It seemed to happen in a blur of fingers and chrome and Anita felt as though she were privy to something not many people ever got to see… whatever it was she was watching. When Loba slammed the staff into the ground – the more familiar part of whatever process they were witnessing – this time she kept her left hand wrapped around the staff and leant against it. A familiar burst of white-blue energy radiated from the staff as usual, this time in a much smaller radius that encircled them in a sustained field. The ring on her left index finger was glowing a light orange where it contacted the metal of the staff. Anita had watched gameplay footage from Loba’s point of view before, had seen the jump drive in action from the perspective of the wielder. The ring usually glowed a white-blue when activated alongside the bracelet.

“Huh.” Anita unintentionally vocalised her intrigue. Elliot for once, was silent.

Loba looked quite pleased with herself and gave a light shrug of her right shoulder, resting a hand on her hip. “I enjoy a little privacy. Counter-surveillance tech.” Just as soon as her expression had turned smug, seemingly by instinct a shade of defensive suspicion darkened her features as she levelled her gaze at them, pointing a manicured finger at both of them in turn. “Tell anyone about this and I’ll enjoy watching you try to prove it.”

The only noise in response came from the light mechanical hum of Loba’s tech and the rapid scratch of Elliot’s beard against his collar as he enthusiastically nodded his understanding.

A slew of questions and a lot of knee-jerk protestations came to the forefront of Anita’s IMC-brain when she was granted a second to think about the possible implications and advantages of Loba having such a device in the games. Surprising herself, the thoughts to immediately overtake were ones of concern for Loba should the commission ever find out, and then of… pride? Privilege? She couldn’t quite assign the right word to the feeling. Loba had entrusted them, Anita and Elliot, with this knowledge. It didn’t escape her how big of a deal that was for someone with well documented trust issues. A quick glance over at the expression Elliot wore told her it hadn’t escaped him either. 

“I’m impressed,” was all Anita could think to say at first.

Loba gave her a wink. “I’m full of surprises, Sergeant.” Anita ignored the dip of sensation in her stomach, grateful when Loba continued. “And I have more up my sleeve, but they’re for emergency purposes only. I would prefer not to blow my load early if I don’t have to.”

When neither Anita nor Elliot interrupted, Loba continued.

“What happened to us – to you – today did definitely constitute an emergency situation, and it certainly appears to be ongoing, but it is also indicative of a more… deep seated issue.”

There was something about listening to Loba speak, unfiltered and for a prolonged amount of time. While her reputation didn’t exactly precede her, after more research with help from Elliot, Anita had been made aware of Loba’s standing in certain circles of Syndicate society. Loba was obviously intelligent and charismatic, a wealthy socialite. Anita hadn’t anticipated the tactician.

Anita had to wet her dry mouth before she spoke. She nodded in understanding, a slow smile building as she thought she was onto what Loba was thinking. “You don’t want to bug out.”

“That’s an option?” Elliot spoke up for the first time in a while. “If that’s an option, I vote that.”

Anita folded her arms, weighing up the thoughts as they came. “You don’t want to let them know we’re onto them.”

“We leave now, we save ourselves from whatever fate has been rigged for us in the arena -"

"- But we're just as fucked back in the real word." Anita completed their shared thought. 

Loba's smile was satisfied, conspiratorial. "We have to continue the game as normal, the show must go on.” She agreed, her voice taking on a tired faux sing-song quality towards the end of her statement.

Elliot perked up, stepping adjacent to both women with his hands held out towards them. “Woah, woah. I don’t gotta remind you that you were both down for the count when you landed. Timed out. They didn’t zap you back up. I don’t wanna find out what happens when we get _taken out_ ,” he made air quotes around the words, “with whatever bullshittery is going on.”

“That’s why we have to win,” Loba shrugged, checking her nails as if it was no big thing.

Anita gave a dramatic sigh, leaning this way and that to stretch her back out. “Makes sense. The brighter the spotlight is on us, both during and after the games, the less they can openly and dangerously fuck with us like today.”

Elliot was rubbing his temples now. “I hate how this mostly sort-of makes sense.”

Loba hummed her agreement. “It will give us time to begin figuring out what actually happened. Who. And why.”

This time when Loba caught Anita’s gaze there was a depth and intent behind her eyes, flashing Anita back to the moments in the dropship where Loba had been frozen in fear, then in shock and horror. Anita was seeing something else now, an intensity that came from somewhere Anita couldn’t begin to understand. But she wanted to. Whatever it was, Anita found herself wanting to foster it, hold it there so she could help keep the fear and horror at bay from eyes she knew had already seen far too much.

"I'll be in touch to arrange a meet-up once the dust settles." Loba gave a succinct nod, averting her gaze.

“Alright, let’s get some.”

“ _Let’s get some_ ,” Elliot mimicked childishly, with irritating accuracy. “Sure, _Bangalore_ , let’s just win the Apex games. _Easy_.”

Loba’s laugh at Elliot’s impression was gorgeously unfettered, Anita wasn’t sure she’d heard it like that before. She decided that not all of the ‘firsts’ she’d experienced today after years of monotony were so bad after all.

The moment Loba’s ring left the surface of the staff and she retrieved her bracelet, the counter-surveillance bubble surrounding them dissipated and the thief made a show of extracting a spitfire LMG from the black market. Anita had picked one up in most of their games today, she must have noticed.

“For you, Sergeant,” she grinned, bestowing the huge machine gun upon Anita.

“Beautiful,” was all Anita said in return. She wasn’t looking at the gun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm enjoying exploring the relationships I've been headcanoning between different characters for so long, especially the ones I don't ship romantically (Bangs and Mirage are such bros to me for many reasons, of which I'm looking forward to getting further into). 
> 
> I have ideas for Anita/Ajay and Anita/Tae Joon/Elliot as well. 
> 
> Apologies if anyone is only here for lobalore ship stuff. It is coming, but I liiiiiiive for the slow burn. 
> 
> [ Dialogue at the beginning was taken from the Outlands Journal article https://apexlegends.gamepedia.com/File:Bangalore_article.png  
> Wish they'd give us more banga-lore. ]


	3. If You're With Me, I'm With You

It didn’t take long for the three of them to fall into a flexible formation, one with positions they could chop and change between depending on who fell behind while looting or who went ahead to scout. Even while they did a quick sweep of the rest of the Artillery compound for supplies, they never seemed to wander too far. Both Elliot and Loba were sticking closer to Anita than they had done in any previous match, at least closer than required of them tactically, and they didn’t seem concerned with hiding their motive. For all Elliot had thrown the word ‘care’ around thus far, it was odd for Anita to actually feel it aimed at her in practice. She knew it would offend the few close friends she had if they heard her say that feeling cared for wasn’t something she was used to. She knew she was loved, her absence would sadden people. It was just difficult to process. These days the sensation of being ‘known’ – Anita, not Bangalore – could be overwhelming. 

The two or so minutes it took them to sweep the untouched compound left them feeling confident that they had the place to themselves since they landed. As Anita watched her two squadmates fall into a more casual pace ahead of her, bizarrely she found herself contemplating the sentiment of taking a bullet for someone. It happened a lot in the games whether you intended it to or not. An old adage, one that was once true of every soldier she served alongside in the IMC. She thought it would lose its weight in an arena where even an execution-style headshot didn’t mean absolute death, but it hadn’t. 

During an interview in her early Apex days she had actually spoken the words, declaring to the system that she’d take a bullet for anyone in her squad. She’d puffed out her chest a lot back then, playing up the ‘honourable soldier’ role as her new commission publicists had suggested she did. With how things worked in the games, ‘anyone in her squad’ realistically translated to every legend on the roster. Watching Elliot and Loba walk a few paces ahead of her reminded Anita that it hadn’t been true back then, and it wasn’t true now.

The weight of that single sentiment was pushed aside when Anita noticed three grey trails of smoke passing overhead, back the way they came. She barely had time to yell out a warning when a white hot line of thermite detonated in the path of Elliot and Loba, cutting them off from the compound’s southern exit to which they were headed. Her HUD gave her a real-time readout of the thermite eating away at the shields they’d just spent valuable time scrounging around to charge up.

“ _Cover, cover!_ ” She yelled over the loud hiss of the thermite and the slew of expletives coming from the two ahead. They had already started running, splitting off in opposite directions.

Anita wound up to take off after them in a sprint, correcting at the last second to avoid landing her foot in her own line of thermite, exploding and spitting heat almost right under her. In her abrupt start and stop she fought to keep her balance while her head whipped back to see where the enemies had landed, only to see the three smoke trails just beginning to dissipate. They must have tossed grenades while still in flight, an illegal move. None of the legends from the current crop had ever risked a move like that, nor did Anita think they ever would. They’d be disqualified after the fact even if they ended up winning the game, not to mention potentially banned from the following bout. The majority of them played for the prize pot, some equally chased the glory. Neither prize would be risked. Gameplay had very few rules, so the few that did stand were all the more strictly enforced.

That made these guys ‘Reps’. Replications, or ‘Dupes’ until Witt’s team trademarked the term. They were some of the many lines of disturbing small font in the Legend contract, one they all read but many could easily overlook when weighed against the rewards. You sign over the rights for the commission to manufacture your likeness, personality, physical and mental traits and skillsets. In exchange you have to fight disturbingly accurate replications of yourself, all clowned-up with whichever sponsor had paid to have their brand slapped on them. They were all singing, all dancing replications of the real Legends who’d fought their way to the big leagues. By every means at their disposal and every decision-making algorithm engineered by the scientists to have them make the same choices their original would, they were programmed to achieve one singular goal: Win. Complete with a meaty body to punch and shoot, and the warm blood to spill. No one knew if they were sims like Revenant or Ash, or the latest in holo-engineering brilliance. It was stipulated in their contract that the technology was top secret and not to be enquired into. Anita wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer anyway.

They couldn’t be reasoned with, weren’t programmed with empathy, which made them all the more dangerous. If a team of Reps won a match, you were paid a pittance even if one of them was wearing your face - that made them infuriating not to mention embarrassing to be bested by. If you wanted to win, failing to recognize the severity of the threat they posed was a rookie mistake, but that didn’t take away the twisted catharsis gained from literally being able to beat the shit out of yourself.

Not even a beat passed before the gunfire began, and Anita couldn’t follow her squad until the thermite blocking her way burnt out. She popped some smoke in a line between her and the assailants, beginning a countdown in her head. In one hand she held her signal flare waiting to be ignited, thanks to the ultimate accelerant she'd found. In the other was her spitfire, stock braced against her hip, levelled roughly in the direction of the enemy. What she’d give for a digital threat scope. When her countdown reached zero, the thermite fizzled out a second later. Her smoke had a few more seconds of effective cover in it, but even still, the moment she stood up to begin her retreat the bullets bit into Anita’s right shoulder and thigh as she sprinted, backwards-bowling the lit flare behind her with a series of hollow metallic ‘ _clinks_ ’ as it bounced over the concrete. Her read-out told her that she’d only be able to handle a few more shots unless she found more cells for her shields.

She did her best to bob and weave through the pain, barely hearing the tell-tale ‘crack’ of her shield losing its juice over the gunfire and the Rolling Thunder beginning its echoing boom in her wake. When Anita finally made it to the huge banners which hung over the exit, she whirled around to lay down some suppressing fire for Elliot and Loba who quickly followed after her before the cover of the smoke faded.

Elliot skidded around the corner into cover, three of his dupes in different stages of exaggerated fatigue around him. “This is why we get on so well, Bangs,” he panted, “we’re both so subtle.”

She shrugged, leaning back against the wall while she checked her ammo count. The last few missiles of the strike were detonating around the corner, and with them some satisfying ‘cracks’ of enemy shields. “I’m alright with a little overkill today.”

“That’s the squad I saw earlier,” Loba joined them, her hands tightening and relaxing around her staff, knuckles white as she looked over her shoulder up at the ridge, over which was the northern watchtower. “Why would they come back this way? The ring is closing any minute.”

Anita gestured towards the sky with a bob of her head.

“I see,” Loba responded aloud, approaching the edge of the wall near Anita to carefully peer back into Artillery. Anita’s back was pressed against the wall, near the corner Loba was looking around. The younger woman laid her palm flat against the space of wall above Anita’s shoulder to steady herself. When she leaned around to look, she wasn’t at all shy when it came to increasing their proximity, however briefly. 

“You missed,” she pulled back in time for a series bullets to _thwip_ into the concrete near where her head had just been.

“I uh - I actually got a couple hits on their shields,” she replied, cursing the hitch in her throat. She absently scratched at the back of her head where the single strip of hair stopped at the base of her neck. “Unless my tech is glitching again.”

Despite the small yet outward displays of anxiety Anita had noted in Loba’s body language since they’d landed in their shit show, Loba was still all smirk. It was like she could sense the heat rising around Anita’s collar, threatening to colour her cheeks. Anita couldn’t help but wonder if the thief knew what she was doing, if she thought about these things before she did them or if it was simply an outward aspect of her beguiling personality that she had no control over.

Sometimes it was like Loba was trying to speed up the rumour mill herself. _Like it needs any help_ , Anita thought. 

“Then we should keep running?” Elliot supplied, straightening himself up. His two dupes high fived one another and fizzled out.

“Let’s pop our heads in these two buildings first. But yeah, watchtower,” Anita nodded, swallowing down against her rising nerves. “Hopefully there’ll be more OSP there to help put down those Reps. I’d rather do the chasing.” Trying her best to ignore the responding quirk of Loba’s brow, Anita popped another smoke in the threshold of the gateway for luck before kicking off in a jog.

There were nothing more than a couple shotgun bolts and weapon stocks in the immediate area. They all took off towards Watchtower skirting the edge of the cascades, through the mud churned up by heavy vehicle tracks. If there was one thing Anita had always been good at even before her service, it was running track and field. She’d outpaced her own Rep on more than one occasion both on the hunt and the evade, much to her own satisfaction. Hell, she’d been known to run away from her problems on occasion just as quickly. She could add public speculation about the nature of hers and Loba’s relationship to that list.

“Maybe one of us should do the breaching of the enclosed rooms today,” Elliot suggested from a few strides ahead of her. 

“No,” Anita responded, way too quickly. She may as well have been pouting. “That’s _my_ thing.”

“You’ve already taken some damage, and those reps won’t be far behind. I mean, have you _seen_ your health readout? Is it working?”

“It’s working!” She huffed and kept jogging. He was right, but still. To her left, she heard the light jingle of Loba’s jewellery as she kept pace. Then surprising her, Loba picked up speed to overtake, but not before shoving a box of syringes into Anita’s hands as she passed.

“Here,” was all the younger woman said, the volume of her voice fading as she left physical earshot, coming in more strongly over the radio as she slid the rest of the way down the grassier hill on her knees.

On the way downhill toward the watchtower compound Anita could already see the white interiors of wide open supply bins, enhanced by the sun. For a moment she almost saw double, the bins developing a blurry white second outline.

“Ah crap,” she blurted, feeling the rapid swell of spit in her mouth, the precursor to one of the worst things Anita could think of to do when in company. Attractive company. Not to mention potentially witnessed by the entire sector. Before her pace could pick up too much momentum and take on that awkward trying-not-to-fall downhill run, Anita directed herself towards a tree which sat on the hill instead. She held her hands near her chest like she was receiving a basketball pass, using them to soften her impact somewhat. She was thankful the other two had already started to slide down the hill ahead of her, making it to the concrete of the compound before they noticed she’d stopped and might have decided they wanted to come and check on her.

“Anita?” Loba’s voice came over the radio, a fainter echo of her voice coming from her place further down the hill, the same note of concern in the one word. Anita barely managed to mute her communicator in time for her stomach to empty the majority of her breakfast in the grass below the tree.

“Look away,” she managed to gasp in a brief moment of reprieve, unbothered that she hadn’t the time to reactivate her com anyway. Thankfully, the tree hid her barf stream from view. If there had been any doubt that she’d been spiked with something before, it was definitely gone now. Anita hadn’t been sick by any unnatural means since her early Apex career full of partying and sampling the ‘Fun Buns’ Natalie and Ajay had ‘invented’ in Witt’s kitchen that one time. Growing up with a mother and older brother who loved to experiment in the kitchen had more than steeled Anita’s stomach. For the most part.

After a few moments when she was confident there couldn’t possibly be anything left, Anita stood, absently feeling for the small canteen of water she kept in one of her leg pouches. Constantly being surrounded by smoke tended to leave her with cottonmouth.

“Neets, you good?” Witt’s voice was hushed. She could somewhat make out the form of one of his dupes standing by an empty supply bin. “This place has been picked clean b-t-dubs. Outside anyway.”

“For the most part,” Loba corrected. Over the radio Anita heard the distinctive rattle of ammo boxes and a P20 reloading. “I hate the watchtowers,” Loba added. “It’s always either a chaotic firefight or it is deathly quiet. There is no in-between.”

“Mm, yep. I’m good Witt. And let’s hope it’s the latter.” Anita slowed her pace, passing empty supply bin after empty supply bin, thankful to find herself steady on her feet as she moved to catch up with them. “Don’t think we have enough heals between us to last long in a fight. Thanks, by the way.”

“Don’t mention it.”

By the time Anita passed through the watchtower lot, Elliot and Loba were waiting for her by the stairs which led up into the main building.

“Hey,” Elliot greeted quietly, wearing an unbidden grimace of mock-disgust on his face. “You look like crap. Again.”

“We should move,” Anita whispered, not wanting to linger on the fact. If they were being watched like they thought they were, she didn’t want to give them any cause to think that the jig was up, that they might have any suspicions about the cause of Anita’s upset stomach.

Once she caught up, Anita let them go ahead of her, smiling to herself when Loba assumed the role of lookout, hunching next to the wall which sloped down in a ramp and keeping watch for anyone approaching from the hills around them.

Elliot approached the window to the watchtower interior in a slow crouch, peeking his head up only high enough to see in. “There’s a few death boxes in there,” he whispered, “and a gas trap in the center.”

Anita crept up to the adjacent window, trying to get a better angle to see into the room. There were a lot of boxes, at least five to Anita’s count. Big fight. The gas trap was in an odd place tactically, in the middle of the room and not the standard ‘right next to the door’ approach Caustics usually went with for the motion trigger. Probably a last-ditched placement before he dropped.

“I don’t see-” she began quietly, about to declare the all clear when she spotted movement in the small side room to the left of the entrance. “Hold up.”

Then came the tell-tale but faint beeps and boops of a D.O.C drone being deployed. They really did seem to make those things louder on purpose.

Anita caught Elliot’s attention, then made a cross over her chest and mimed shooting herself up with a healing syringe – the dumb but effective hand signal they’d come up with together to signify the presence of a ‘Lifeline’. She pointed to the left of the room to give him an idea of where the hostile was.

They both slowly approached the closed door, signalling Loba over to join them.

“I’ll take out the trap, you two get the door?” Anita suggested, they both nodded. It seemed a fair compromise for Anita’s usual penchant for being the first one to breach and clear. “On three.”

Counting down with her fingers, she got to three, standing aside while Elliot positioned himself in front of the door. Breaching the door with a kick and the shatter of glass, Elliot entered the room, keeping low and immediately stepping aside for the ladies to enter.

Before she could so much as level her sights at the base of the gas trap, the side door opened. The loud and slightly shrill voice of a commanding Ajay Che burst forth from it, followed a split second later by her surgical-glove-clad hand wielding a wingman which was aimed right for the bag of the gas trap.

“Still yourselves or I’ll gas us all out, best believe me.”

The confusion contorting Elliot’s face almost made Anita burst out with a laugh, which would be about the only thing that could make this turn of events more bizarre. Loba had one eye squinted and the other squarely down the sights of her pistol. When Anita’s eyes flicked to Loba, she gave the barest hint of a nod, confirming she had a shot. Anita’s brain was too busy trying to rapidly assess the situation to say anything aloud. When no one immediately responded Ajay’s voice sounded again.

“Okay, well none of ya immediately fired so I’m assuming ya ain’t reps.” Although the pistol was still levelled at the gasbag Anita noticed Ajay remove her finger from the trigger, something Ajay knew Anita’s eye would catch.

“No, no, no, Che we’re real,” Elliot spoke up. “Just surprised.” He stood up straight, still holding firm to his gun just in case.

“Okay, good.” Ajay sounded relieved but on edge. “Since ya the real deals I know you’re gonna hear me out first ‘fore you move on me. I’m the last one of my squad. So… peace? Check the feed if you don’t believe me.”

More of Ajay’s arm was revealed as she took a tentative step over the threshold into the main room. Her gun was still very much levelled at the gas trap, Anita could appreciate that. Smart of her to cover her ass in an attempted negotiation where she was three-against-one on the back foot. “So I say we join up.”

“The audience do love it when that happens,” Elliot conceded, going so far as to holster his gun.

In one staccato and piercingly loud shot in their enclosed room, the wingman discharged at the base of the gas trap, rendering it inert. Even Anita flinched at the sound, but all three of their itchy trigger fingers were soothed as immediately following the shot, Ajay let the gun fall to the ground, quickly followed by some ammunition and a couple of un-primed thermite grenades. Her now empty hand was followed by another, held up in surrender as the full form of the real Ajay Che emerged from the side room, kicking her discarded items ahead of her. She gestured to the death boxes littering the room, then playfully pulled at the insides of her empty pockets. “So?”

Ditching your gear was the widely established sign of surrender in the games. A last ditch attempt at survival by throwing yourself at the mercy of the other team, which was often acknowledged but rarely worked out when surrounded by the merciless. Loba seemed to ease up a little at least, letting her pistol-hand fall to her side as she too rose to a more relaxed stand. Anita looked to Loba for her thoughts. She just shrugged and nodded, already making for the closest death box.

This time Ajay let out a big sigh of relief, retrieving her discarded gear and heading towards Anita. Sometimes she and the younger woman still had their moments, if only with their eyes. It often seemed like Ajay had to stop herself from being as tactile in their friendship as they used to be before all the business with Loba and ‘Ash’. Anita had made a lot of apologies when it came to Ajay and what had happened with Silva, and for her attitude in general during that time. They still had a ways to go. Instead Che folded her arms and gave Anita a visual once-over, more a medical appraisal than anything.

“I’m glad it was you three who rolled up on me and not the empty ones. Haven’t had time to refill my gear yet.”

“Likewise,” Anita agreed, making the eyes at D.O.C who was currently tucked away in its holster. “On both counts.”

“Needs a few to recharge, but I gotcha.” Ajay looked over her shoulder at the other two members of Anita’s squad, then back to her. “You all look beat to shit, especially you. What’s been happening?” The way Ajay phrased the question told Anita that she hadn’t just been referring to the events of the game. Anita remembered that last concerned look Ajay gave her in the ship before she dropped.

“Just some technical difficulties.” Anita was sure to use the tone of voice Ajay would recognise as ‘ _I’ll tell you the real details later_ ’. Ajay seemed to get it.

“Alright then,” she conceded. “At least it’ll be fun rollin’ up on the rest of the squads as a four, be interesting to see how far we get. Hope Silva is still up and runnin’ to see it.”

“About that,” Elliot sidled up next to Ajay with a newly procured Flatline, while he draped an arm around her narrow shoulders. “We’re going all the way, baby.”

Che just gave him the eyebrow, then shot it Anita’s way.

“He’s right,” Anita sighed, giving a shrug. She was going ham with all the subliminal eye messages today. “We just uh,” her mind fumbled with what to say, “- decided we really need a win?” She looked to Elliot for support who was just staring at her in mock awe. He nodded at her, pursed lips keeping an incredulous smile barely at bay. “And today’s the day.”

“Yeah!” Elliot whooped, lifting his rifle in solidarity though his eyes asked ‘ _what the fuck was that?_ ’

Ajay just stared at Anita. Che had always been able to see through Anita’s bullshit, a fact Anita had been counting on when she’d began her poorly-executed explanation. She hoped that in her playing up not knowing how to explain, Ajay would deduce that there were some circumstances keeping Anita from being completely honest.

“Uh-huh,” Ajay hummed in response, and Anita knew Ajay at least understood not to call her out on all the bullshit right now. A small tug at the corner of Che’s mouth began to curl some mischief into her smile and Anita was immediately concerned.

“Alright,” Ajay continued. “How ‘bout this?” She ducked out from under Elliot’s arm and angled herself to more outwardly include Loba in the conversation. “I happen to _really need a win_ as well,” she looked pointedly at Anita, her smile very openly poking fun at her. “When my nasty reps win games, the sponsors and the commission each get a slice with my name attached, but the Frontier Corps only gets the cash when the real me can give it to them, seen? And the real me hasn’t won in a little bit.”

Loba had moved onto her second box and was elbows deep in it. When Anita glanced over to her, she seemed to be wearing an amused smile, like she saw where Che was going with this. So did Anita, but she let Che make her offer.

“Say no more,” Loba cut in, having other ideas.

She rose from her crouch and made towards Anita. When she reached her, she stood directly between Anita and Ajay, making a show of straightening the collar of Anita’s Jacket. Anita heard the click of her communicator being muted. When she looked up to questioningly meet the taller woman’s gaze, Loba just gave an eyebrow quirk of her own. It reminded Anita of the looks her publicist used to give her when it seemed she was about to go off-script in an interview. _Say no more_. Loba on the other hand, seemed to have a lot to say. Her hands settled on Anita’s shoulders, pulling her close enough to settle her mouth by the soldier’s ear. She must have felt the way Anita stiffened, but she didn’t miss a beat.

“Making sure we win is one thing,” Loba began in a barely-there whisper, the hot air of her hushed words hitting Anita’s neck, making her have to fight with every ingrained ounce of control she had to still the shudder threatening to rattle her spine. “Colluding with an opposing team to overwhelm smaller squads, especially with the sole aim to split the winnings, is something these people keep a very close eye on. It undermines their entire operation. If they catch on, it will land us in huge shit with the entire Apex Commission, not just the people who decided to fuck with us today. Who are hopefully a much smaller force. We can do it this time, but we can’t shout about it. Play along. Let’s not give the AC a reason to make an example out of us.”

Each word came in quick succession and Loba was pulling away just as swiftly as she’d swept in. Anita’s thoughts were racing along with her pulse, she’d barely been able to keep up with the words themselves over the sheer sensation of having _that voice_ right by her ear. It was probably the most she’d ever heard Loba speak uninterrupted, outside of an interview. And it was right into her ear.

Once her brain caught up with what Loba had actually said, Anita wanted to kick herself for not coming to the same conclusion faster, especially for Ajay’s sake. Loba was right. If the AC caught onto the idea that these rare instances of cross-squad team-ups were anything more than a fun happenstance to please the crowd, or that the legends were intentionally manufacturing these scenarios in an attempt to milk the system, they would take drastic action to counteract it. The AC were an arm of the Mercenary Syndicate after all. Who knew what they would do keep things in check.

She couldn’t blame Ajay’s philanthropic mind for not thinking about it from a corporate perspective, either. Even Anita had been in the game so long, she sometimes forgot the end goal for the commission was and always had been financial gain.

When she was done with Anita’s ‘collar’, clicking the communicator back on with deft hands, Loba turned on her heel and stood beside Anita instead. Keeping up the show, her show, she draped an arm over Anita’s shoulder, mirroring Elliot’s move on Che but in less of a pally manner, and only over the one shoulder. As Anita gawked up at her, she could only really get a good read on her mouth, and it was all smiles. Complete with how they were both dressed, she felt like they were successful business partners about to close on a deal. Despite everything, it was kind of… fun.

Anita couldn’t see the full scope of the look Loba was giving Ajay, but she didn’t miss the deliberate way Ajay’s eyes flicked between the two of them. It wasn’t so long ago that Anita was being all kinds of asshole, encouraging Loba to leave, and now here they were displaying some semblance of a united front. She couldn’t tell if it was jealousy in Ajay’s eyes or concerned suspicion.

“Looks like you’re our Lifeline,” Loba supplied happily, giving Anita’s shoulder a pat before heading back to the loot. This time Anita followed her, filling up with whatever was left.

Ajay watched her go, and looked as though she were about to say something before Elliot cut her off.

“We got company,” he had positioned himself back at the doorway he’d breached, keeping a lookout. “Those reps from before. And the ring. Aw man, looks like one of ‘em is a Gibby. Aw and one’s a Wattson! Said it once, I’ll say it again: They shouldn’t be allowed to have soulless reps running around being all blank and heartless. They’re too dang sweet!”

“Oh? And I’m allowed to have them? I’m not sweet enough for ya Witt?” Ajay chimed in, rushing to take her fill of the loot she’d rightfully earned.

Elliot’s mouth comically opened and closed a few times while he tried to think of a way to answer.

“I know better than to answer that?” He tried. His go-to when putting his foot in it with the women in his life, apparently.

“Come on with ya. We should take the zipline below, Path had already scanned for the next ring before he was taken out, so I know where to head.”

Anita hurried to fill her pouches, focusing on shield and health supplies first then ammo. When she joined Elliot by the door, she saw the large form of Gibraltar making his way towards the stairs, shield up and sights levelled towards them. The rep was moving slowly and deliberately despite having the ring at its back. Some more weirdness for today’s pile. The distinctive frame of Wattson had his left flank. With those two, it was any wonder her airstrike had made contact at all, it definitely wouldn’t have if Wattson’s ultimate ability had been ready. When an orange scan radiated out and over them all, a Bloodhound was confirmed as the third in the squad of reps. With their combined abilities they could successfully defend against or counteract Bangalore’s airstrike, see through her smoke with scans, not to mention retaliate with an airstrike themselves. _Of all the squad combos_ …

“Seriously?” Anita breathed quietly. Elliot heard her, but didn’t pull her up on it. He seemed more concerned with the approaching enemies and the wall of death not far behind them.

“Time to go!” He encouraged, ushering her through the doorway.

Ajay was close behind, not hesitating to jump into mid-air, catching the yellow rope as she descended. Anita looked over her shoulder for Loba, only to find the younger woman right there, waiting expectantly.

“After you,” Anita gestured towards the zipline. “You too, Witt.”

The two of them complied without complaint. Anita was used to her teammates following her direction in high intensity moments such as these. She liked to think it was the natural air of command she still had, even after being out of active duty for so long. Elliot said it was because she had bossy older sister vibes.

When it was clear, Anita jumped in after them all, catching herself on the zipline and immediately launching some smoke into the space above her to provide cover. She could already see three shadowy forms above and braced herself for any stray bullets or grenades.

“Get ready for a fight!” she shouted to everyone below her. When her boots hit solid ground Anita winced at the shock of pain that shot up her shins, her feet skidding out from under her when she landed a lot harder than she was anticipating.

 _Faulty jump jets_.

“Shit,” she hissed, pushing herself up with help from the wall. As soon as she put weight on her ankle she could feel it almost give out. _“Dammit.”_ No jump jets meant no zip-lining upwards, no jump towers, and no unprotected traversals of high vantage points. Not unless they could get creative.

“Crap!” Elliot rushed over to her, pulling her arm over his shoulder to help her out the way of the bottom of the zipline. “Forgot about that.”

“Yep, me too,” Anita was already shooting a syringe into her thigh once Elliot started to lead her outside to where Loba and Ajay were waiting, crouched behind some storage crates with their weapons drawn and aimed towards where the zipline dangled.

“That’s going to be a problem,” Loba pointed out. Elliot crouched next to her, keeping watch on their six.

“One thing at a time,” Anita groaned as she slid down the wall next to Loba’s crate, jaw clenched as she felt the meds searing their way through the probable sprains in both her ankles, and a twinge in her knee. “We need to take these guys out, don’t wanna end up pinned between squads with the ring on us as well.”

“Containment is at the edge of the next ring,” Ajay pointed out, scurrying across the open to join them in the cover of their crate. “Why haven’t they dropped-“

As though she’d spoken them into existence, the whips of fabric through air followed by three loud thuds in succession sounded from further down the bank towards the river. The reps had gone up and over the watchtower rather than follow them beneath. It was the better move tactically, and Anita could have kicked herself for not presuming that’s exactly what they’d do. This way Anita’s squad were running from the ring and would be taking extra damage on top of any shots the reps might manage to make on them as they fled the ring. More or less exactly what Anita had hoped to do to them.

“Shit,” she scrambled to get to her feet. “Let’s just get after them. Fire at will but keep moving.”

When she made it to her feet Anita was relieved to find that the meds had done their job, and though her balance seemed a bit iffy, she could put weight on her ankles and even kick up into a jog without any lingering pain. Next she had a new pain to contend with, the hot bite of the ring was closing on them, Anita could feel it raising the hair on her arms as she ran. Ajay and Elliot were behind her, she could see Elliot’s health readout slowly being chipped away and could hear Ajay’s winces of discomfort every second or so. The first ring closure wasn’t so bad, but no matter how many times a Legend experienced it, it still lit a fire under their ass without fail.

Across the river there was still an open stretch of canyon to traverse with only a few large rocks scattered around for cover. Thankfully by the time they reached the first of the boulders, the ring stopped just behind them, its curvature helpfully cutting close to the left and right edge of the rock and providing all four of them with a small gap of space to hunker down in.

“Looks like our pursuers walked into an ambush.” Elliot was on his tip-toes, peering over the top of their rock. One of his dupes sat on his shoulders, also looking. Sometimes Anita wasn’t sure he knew what ‘cover’ meant. “Probably wanted to ambush _us_! Ha, suckers.”

Ajay pulled out D.O.C and set him to work on healing them for the small amount of damage they’d taken, saving their syringes. Up ahead the sounds of a gunfight could be heard, confirming Elliot’s observation. Anita could hear the unmistakably unnatural detonation of Revenant’s shadowy powers intermingled with the gunfire. She felt Loba flinch and stiffen beside her.

When Anita looked over at the younger woman her eyes were fixed dead ahead, back the way they came into the blazing orange of the ring mere feet away, reflected and flickering in the unblinking hazel. They could all feel the heat of it against their skin, and even though they were all drenched in the orange light, Anita could tell Loba’s skin had paled. She had a white-knuckle grip on her pistol, held it up close to her face.

“Loba,” Anita began softly, gently curling her fingers around Loba’s arm. “Hey-“

Before she could do anything else, Anita’s eyes were filled with familiar black shadow and the ghastly orange sparks of what resembled electricity. Every single electronic readout of her tech was shrouded in the same shadow and Anita knew she wouldn’t be able to pop a smoke and run, like every instinct in her body was telling her to. Loba’s arm tore from Anita’s gentle grasp as the woman whirled around on one knee, pistol in a two-handed grip and aimed above them towards the top of the rock. It took a second for Anita’s vision to clear and when it did, they were all covered in the same black gooey shadow, red-orange unnatural energy crackling around them.

The simulacrum’s voice always sounded like it was slithering out from the depths of hell. It was even worse when it said her name. Its vocal processor took on a mockery of what could be considered a ‘sing-song’ quality in the one searching word, while the scratching of metal claws against stone could be heard even amidst the chaos.

“ _Loba_ …”

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really enjoying thinking of ways to add real in game shenanigans to the narrative, i.e. dropping all your loot to show you mean no harm, especially when you're the last in your squad. Or running into the last person alive in a squad and having them do it. It's only ever been successful for me a couple of times, but it's always fun :') 
> 
> (I think I'll keep the bouncing up and down at each other out of it though haha.)
> 
> This chapter felt a bit on the long side, I was debating on splitting it into two. Please feel free to let me know if they're a bit of a slog to get though and I'll try to make them shorter :) 
> 
> Also, apex has got me wanting to draw game fanart again! Lobalore of course. If it ends up being any good I can drop the link if anyone wants to see! (you'll probs see it in the lobalore twitter tag even if you don't know it's mine)


	4. "Only the best for my friends."

_It hadn’t been difficult to find a dive bar in a city like Malta, even on a planet like Psamathe. No truly thriving city - even on a planet ruled by the self-appointed elite - could function without a substantial underbelly to hold it aloft. The wealthiest, shiniest and most distinguished cities often hid the dirtiest yet most intricate underworlds. This was where Loba liked to hide._

_The cost of success was one she could afford these days, but not always one she enjoyed paying. Gone were the days where Loba could enjoy the simple pleasure of walking down the streets of a high-end shopping district and picking each pocket she pleased. She was more likely to be recognised topside, up in Malta proper, and down here in ‘Lowtown’ there was rarely a mark she’d consider stealing from. She hadn’t taken from those who had so little, even back when she’d first started out and had nothing herself. She may not have needed to pickpocket anymore, but it still felt good to be able to hide in plain sight, especially the night before a risky operation that could land her in the public eye for a long time to come, regardless of the outcome._

_So she had fixed up an outfit which obscured her feminine form somewhat, pulled up her hood and slipped on a pair of her tinted holo-glasses. It was always so vibrant down here despite the dinginess. Each storefront she passed sent their ads to the holographic display on her glasses and were swiftly bounced back by the filter she had coded into them. The buildings themselves were dripping in neon signage and had patrons coming and going despite the late hour. The hum of mag-trains could be heard passing hundreds of meters in the city above, but like Loba they too were lost in the pleasant din of an underground city alive._

_Jaime was right where he said he’d be, his shock of blue hair poking out in tufts from under his black beanie. She usually liked to dictate where they met up when they had to do so in person, but Jaime didn’t want to risk being seen on her personal ship. So here they were, in the corner booth of an old bar covered wall to wall in ancient Irish Earth memorabilia. The seats were aged dark green leather and the surface of the table was sticky and smelled like stale beer and tobacco. The most modern thing about the place was the large screen which took up most of the far wall and was currently playing a highlight reel of the latest Apex match. It was the kind of place Mamãe and Papai would have cringed to know she frequented, but somehow it still felt right. She didn’t have to adopt any persona down here._

_“Don’t let it be said that Loba Andrade can’t slum it with the real salt of Psamathe.”_

_Jaime had clinked his oversized mug of beer against hers happily, while she’d stared back at him in abject shock. “Did you want to throw my middle name in there while you’re at it?"_

_He only laughed in response. “Oh relax, you already know I’ve scanned this entire building and everything within a three-block radius down to the rebar. We’re good.”_

_She let out the breath of knee-jerk panic she’d been holding. She’d known Jaime long enough to know that his self-preservation protocols were just as rigorous as hers, but not quite long enough to trust if his cockiness was always justified._

_“Yes, well. I’d still prefer you not to speak my full name out loud down here. Especially if you’re going to insist we meet planetside and not aboard my extremely well-secured and well-_ furnished _ship. I take it my things are ready? Or was this your elaborate way of getting me out to grab a drink?”_

_Jaime set about opening the hefty case he had on the seat beside him. It was on the inside seat closest to the wall, but Loba still cast a wary eye about the bar when Jaime didn’t bother to. The place was full, but from her cursory glance everybody either seemed too wrapped up in their own conversations - or the big screen - to notice them in the corner, or too drunk to care what they were doing anyway._

_Satisfied, Loba looked back to Jaime and what he had placed on the table between them. When her eyes unabashedly lit up, so did Jaime’s entire face. Placed neatly in a row were the items of Loba’s wearable tech she’d entrusted to him to upgrade for her. Visually, her staff, ring and bracelet didn't appear very different, aside from a slight lustre._

_“I almost wanted to rig the case to play a fanfare and release holographic fireworks when I finished these, I was so excited. Let my restraint be proof of my professionalism.” Jaime reached back into the case for an additional part, the wolf’s head gifted to her by her father. He carefully attached the decorative element back onto the staff, clicked the newly-fitted button in the wolf’s nose and they both watched as the staff retracted into its most compact form with the barest of a metallic whisper._

_“Firstly,” Jaime continued, pushing the staff towards her over the table. “I wanted to thank you for entrusting this work to me. I know how much these items mean to you.”_

_She waved him off, taking another sip. She was trying really hard to contain her excitement for finally having her prized possessions back. “There was no one else I would have chosen. Plus, you got to play with cutting edge Hammond tech. We both win here. Also, I paid you a lot,” she dragged out the last word, smiling conspiratorially._

_“You mean there was no one else you_ could _have chosen. Still,” Jaime conceded with a more bashful smile. “Thank you.” He sighed, pushing back the blue that fell into his eyes while he settled further back into his seat. “I still can’t believe you’re actually going in there. Doing it.”_

_“Mm,” she hummed her agreement, her gaze being caught by the screen across the room while she slipped each item of tech back into their rightful places on her person._

_“It’s the culmination of a lot of work. I’m just glad I could help you gear up for it. If they scan these babies, the only features they’re gonna see are the ones I want them to! Rest are cloaked. I could sit and talk about the upgrades all night, but we might actually both end up stuck to these seats. So I’ve detailed them all in this data pad for you. But Loba, the jump drive two-point-oh! You have to read_ that _section first…”_

_Loba was still listening to her friend as he rambled on about the improvements he’d made to her gear in preparation for her potential addition to the games, but she couldn’t tear her eyes from the screen. Even the dense noise of the busy bar seemed to make a tunnel of silence for her as she centred on the display, where a feed of the last match of the day was just beginning, live from Solace._

_She could still remember the first time she’d watched the horrific visage of the demon cross the screen as it was introduced along with its team, like a damned rock star mag-ball player. She’d watched the so-called ‘Legends’ fight alongside it, work closely with it, heal it. The commission had given it slogans like the other fighters, made copies of it and dressed it up in the very brands of stores she had shopped at herself. No longer._

_Jaime had informed her about the footage they had used from the worst day of her young life as a means to showcase what their latest killer could do. She hadn’t been able to watch it, but she presumed her potential ‘colleagues’ had._

_Instinctively her lip curled in disgust when the demonio crossed the screen again, her hands tightening around her newly upgraded staff. She paid no attention to whichever combination of words they played over its intro sequence. It was always the eyes that struck a nerve with her, burned into her mind._

_“Hey, you okay?”_

_Jaime’s voice brought her back and she tried her best to let go of the tension that had coiled up in her shoulders and stomach. It helped when the demonic visage of ‘Revenant’ was replaced with a stoic soldier-type with one of those lopsided smiles that was born of either a cocky-overconfidence or a general lack of it, she couldn’t tell which in the few seconds she was afforded it._

_“Imagining yourself up there?”_

_When the soldier’s image slid away and another took her place, Loba settled back into the old leather backrest of the booth and set her staff down again, reaching for her beer._

_“Something like that. Still think they’ll try to recruit me?”_

_“When it’s done, yeah, if they see you do it. If they find you. Can almost guarantee it. You won’t be alone out there, though.” He reached across to tap a finger pointedly against the staff. “Stay on the line with me during the operation. And call me anytime, whatever happens when it’s done.”_

_When she met the kind blue of Jaime’s eyes, Loba tried to use them to keep the hellfire of the demonio’s at bay. When that didn’t work she tried to hold the warm brown of the soldier’s in her mind instead._

_She let out a long sigh, twisted the ring around her finger in thought._

_“I’m finally going to avenge them tomorrow, Jaime. You found the demon, and you found me a way beneath the arena right under Hammond’s nose. Tomorrow night when I contact you, it will be for you to meet me on Psamathe’s resort moon for a spa vacation and a_ lot _of cocktails.”_

* * *

It was one of the quietest implosions Anita had ever seen _._

 _I know Hammond have told you where it is by now little girl, so why haven’t I heard from you yet?_ the sim had said, crawling it’s way over the top of the rock and peering menacingly down at Loba. Just Loba.

_I’m disappointed. I told you every second of my existence is hell, even offered to help you end it. Let me help you end it!_

It had raised the volume of its vocal processor then, to an unnatural boom that Anita had felt make herself and the other two Legends flinch in tandem. But Anita’s eyes had stayed on Loba. The only response the younger woman had for the sim had been a lip curled in disgust, then the rapid discharge of a P20’s entire extended magazine directly into the simulacrum’s head and centre-mass. She’d slowly risen to a stand as she had done so, but her aim stayed true. Loba’s rapid trigger-pull game almost made the P20 sound like an RE-45. It was an impressive display of grip strength, one Anita could imagine her old firearms instructor would have been just as impressed by.

The sim on the other hand, had barely moved the entire time. Its face was the only thing to show any sign of change as Loba temporarily ended its existence for this game. The smile it wore all the while, if it could be called that, was a cross between a grimace of pain and a sick facsimile of amusement. Anita could have sworn she’d heard its low grumble of a laugh beneath the sharp pops of gunfire.

The death box hadn’t even hit the ground before Ajay and Elliot had started running. Anita didn’t start until she knew Loba was going to move as well. The younger woman had paused only to look directly at Anita, and for a moment Anita wished she could just pause the whole world and let Loba stay safely tucked away behind the rock until she was ready to face it again.

Then Loba’s gaze left Anita’s as swiftly as it had met it. If there had been an emotion to be read there, Anita couldn’t understand it.

It played over in her mind as they followed Ajay and Elliot into the containment compound then further south-east towards the desert. No one said a word, not even Elliot. They all just ran and ran, communicating only through pings in their HUD. Anita kept replaying the way Loba had looked at her, all the while trying her hardest not to actually look at the other woman as they ran.

In their shared silence was the recognition and quiet respect for the moment Loba had just endured, and the shared realisation of what she must go through every time she encountered Revenant in the field and the few ‘mandatory’ group appearances outside of the games.

Everyone had been there when the sim had hacked Crypto’s drone and revealed what he knew about Loba’s true intent and the source code, but only Anita had been privy to the conversation where Revenant said he wanted to help Loba retrieve it. He wanted to be there when she destroyed it, wanted her to tell him as soon as Hammond sent her the coordinates. A lot of demands for the evil creature who had inflicted so much pain on Loba.

Apparently she hadn’t made the journey yet, and apparently the sim was taking every opportunity it could to hound Loba about it.

As Anita thought back over the times the two of them had been in the same squad today, retroactively she recognised the tell-tale signs of a woman on edge. Eyes always alert, hyper-aware of every footfall and noise in the distance. In the heat of the moment Anita had mistaken those signs for the traits of a sharp fighter with her head in the game. Now that she’d actually witnessed an interaction between Loba and Revenant in the arena, seen the aftermath, she realized how wrong she’d been. Anita had been treated for PTSD at least twice during her service with the IMC. She’d been stupid and careless not to recognise the same signs in Loba. She couldn’t imagine the thoughts that Loba must be turning over in her head constantly. She wondered, hoped Loba had someone to talk it out with.

Eventually, the squad of four made it to the outskirts of the desert, finding another rock to take cover behind in the sand while they caught their breath. They had the exit of the bunker around the corner to their left, then the airbase further off in the distance. Before that, there was the large expanse of sand broken up with only a smattering of buildings along with some minor peaks and troughs in the terrain for cover. 

“Okay,” Ajay spoke up, a finger to her earpiece while she checked her HUD. “So it looks like the last couple rings are gonna be either in the middle of the desert where the settlement is, or the airbase.”

“How many squads we got left?” Elliot asked.

Anita had her back to a smaller rock, a few steps away from the larger one the majority of the group was behind. Every few seconds she found her gaze checking in on Loba.

“Six, but that’s including me on my lonesome. So you technically got a top five situation. Congratulations to ya.”

There was only the slightest hint of sarcasm in Ajay’s tone, but she was smiling nonetheless and Anita could tell that any and all hints of spite were made in jest.

“Thanks again for this, Ajay,” Anita said, injecting as much sincerity into her tone as she could without it sounding forced.

“Yeah Che,” Elliot chimed in, “drinks are on the house in the Lounge tonight.”

Anita couldn’t stop her scoff from interrupting. “They always are anyway.”

“Yeah, but I mean _top_ -top shelf this time. Thank you, really.”

Ajay chuckled quietly, adjusting the scope of her sniper rifle. “Thank me when you win, ya hear me?” Che’s smile was cheeky as she winked up at Elliot, parroting a slight alteration of one of her many signature lines at him for the cameras. 

After a few moments Anita clocked Ajay looking up at the shotgun Loba had in a neutral hold at her hip. Anita had noticed her dip into one of the buildings in containment as they swept through, entering with a sniper rifle and re-emerging with a mastiff instead, an interesting choice to go with her P20.

“Sure ya don’t wanna swap with me, dead-eye?” Ajay sent her smile Loba’s way.

One of the many things Anita had loved about Ajay was how happy she seemed to be to do almost anything for anyone, from a spare hair tie to a life-saving heal. She still had a smile for someone no matter the situation.

“That was some precise shootin’ back there,” Che went on. “Like splittin' arrows. Think I might’a seen some drool coming from the Sergeant before I got busy runnin’ away.”

A huff of air escaped Loba in a chuckle, shaking her head in answer to the offer. “Easy enough at point blank range, but thank you.”

“Well let me know if ya change your mind. I’d be happy enough knowing you were watching my back.” 

For a brief moment while Anita watched their exchange, she finally let herself acknowledge all the thoughts that had crossed her mind today as they pertained to one Ajay Che. The relationship they’d shared had been brief, swiftly quashed by the commission, but they’d both decided to let that happen.

As Anita watched familiar emotions play across Loba’s face, she found herself ever-grateful to still have Ajay in her life as a close friend. She recognised what Loba was experiencing as the weight of Ajay’s simple statement landed on her. Anita thought she could see someone like her, someone who was also so used to being alone wondering if another way could be a reality for her.

Perhaps it was Anita projecting her own issues, perhaps she was misreading the mixture of guarded confusion Loba was grappling with in the few seconds that passed. Whatever it was, the easiest element of it all to grasp was that it had stemmed from Ajay. 

Loba faltered for only a moment, catching herself as she blinked away whatever thoughts had blocked her words. 

“I’m good for now, thank you.” She straightened herself up, righting the little hat on her head as though she didn’t still look perfect. “I think Elliot and I are going to stay in close quarters with Sergeant Williams. Hence the shotgun.” Loba looked across to Elliot, seemingly for confirmation of a plan they hadn’t discussed. “In case of any funny business.” 

“Yes!” Elliot confirmed, stuttering slightly when he noticed she was expecting a reply from him. “We’re on the case. Team Wittlobes. Elloba. Keeping that body guarded.” 

“Y’know Elliot," Ajay sighed, "sometimes I’m glad ya follow up the weird shit ya say with even weirder shit. It means none of it is usable and they’ll live-edit it out. Poor folks of the Outlands don’t need to hear ya.”

“Nope,” Anita agreed with an overly dramatic wistful sigh of her own, “we suffer so they don’t have to.” 

“‘ _Sweetheart of the games’,_ ” Ajay scoffed, under her breath, before continuing. “I say we make for the perimeter walls of the airbase,” she suggested, chancing another peek around their cover. “It’s pretty open up there, but at least we’ll see them comin’. I can call down a lifeline package on top of the wall for cover if we need it. And we can always jump down and get inside if need be.” 

“Alright,” Anita agreed, while Elliot and Loba nodded. “And if someone already had the same idea, at least we’ll outnumber them.” 

They stayed in cover for only a few moments more at Anita’s behest, just to be safe. When no other teams made a dash across the open desert during their pause, they each made a break for it keeping to the shadows cast by trees and boulders wherever possible.

As they ran, the kill feed seemed to fill in rapid succession, listing off the names of a few dupes and Legends alike. By the time they’d made it to the outer walls of the airbase, there was only their original squad of three, Ajay’s squad of one, and another of indeterminate number left.

Once they reached the airbase, as soon as sand gave way to a solid concrete floor Elliot rounded the corner, rounding the old IMC tank and sliding unceremoniously down onto his ass with his back against the wall.

“Have we seriously made it?” He asked, breathless.

Ajay rounded the corner after him, rifle immediately cocked to survey the surrounding open areas of the airbase. Then came Loba, and as Anita rounded the corner after them the unmistakable cracking boom of a Kraber sniper rifle sounded.

She heard it more than she felt it. Had this been the war, if she hadn’t juiced up her shields, then without a doubt her entire arm would have been blown off from such a high calibre round. Instead, the impact of the shot to her shoulder sent her tumbling around the corner, the force sending her reeling forward and rolling across the asphalt. Thankfully her level four shield took the brunt of the damage, but all of her tech flashed with the red alert of dangerously low vitals.

“Shit,” Anita hissed, thankful that the force of the shot had at least hurtled her further into cover so she couldn’t be picked off.

“Elliot!” Loba ordered, but he was already on it, dragging Anita further behind the wall and reviving her for the second time.

From her prone position on the floor, Anita looked through the distortion of Elliot’s holo-emitters while he healed her, watching as Loba immediately began to climb the storage containers that led to a vantage point atop the wall.

“Kraber! Keep low!” Anita yelled up at her, panic threatening to override any battle tactics that might come to mind. Ajay kneeled by her side, readying her DOC drone for deployment as soon as Anita was back up.

As soon as she was, Anita wasted no time in darting to the corner of the wall, peering around and only just pulling back in time for another deadly shot to whiz past her head. In the split second she was afforded a glimpse, she yet again saw the unmistakable form of Gibraltar – a rep or the real thing, she couldn’t tell – running towards their position across the open desert. Behind him a Bloodhound was in a slower approach and was the one with the Kraber. There was no sign of a Wattson, but Anita would have been ready to put money on this squad being the squad of reps from earlier at watchtower north.

“Get ya’self back over here!” Ajay yanked Anita’s collar back to where she’d be in range of DOC’s healing. “This is all I can do for ya, ‘member that.”

“It’s them again,” Loba’s voice came through over the radio, confirming Anita’s suspicions from atop the wall. “Crap!”

The familiar clink of metal against concrete came through over Loba’s radio, and Anita looked up to the top of the wall just in time to see Loba leaping off of it. The sound of a frag grenade detonating followed by yet another a fraction of a second later seemed to both prompt and propel Loba’s leap.

“Elliot!” Anita yelled, but he was already on it, jumping down over the railing to follow after Loba in case she needed help. Her health readout said that her shields had taken most of the blow, but Elliot knew the drill. No one left alone.

A lit orange flare bounced into the open space next to the wall they were behind.

When her HUD began to display orange circles on the ground around them, and then the tell-tale warning sound of an incoming airstrike, Anita wondered if Elliot had jinxed them. At the same time, gunfire echoed up from the lower level of the airbase where Elliot and Loba had just landed.

Ajay moved to the edge of the wall where Anita had just been, then quickly returned and protectively put an arm across Anita’s chest to make sure she stayed close to the wall for when the strike landed. They would take hits, but not as badly.

They had approximately five seconds.

“Go and help them!” Anita urged her, a more harsh and demanding edge to her voice than she intended as she shoved the arm away and gestured towards the railing. Just as Ajay was about to protest, Elliot’s readout flashed entirely red to show that he’d been downed. Loba gave a cry of pain next, her breathless voice coming over the radio, _the Wattson is down here_.

 _Five_.

“ _Go_ ,” Anita demanded, speaking so fast there were no gaps between her words. “I’ll delay these two. _They_ ,” she gestured to the railing, “can get me back up, but only if _you_ keep them up.” No one left alone, unless it was her.

 _Four_.

The only noise Ajay made in response was a frustrated growl of acceptance, then she was gone with a sprint and a leap over the railing, her gunfire adding to the noise and chaos below. At least there were buildings down there to take cover in.

 _Three_.

Anita patted DOC appreciatively as she managed to top up her shields by a bar.

_Two._

Her entire field of view was taken up by an intense orange glow, hexagonal patterns around her in a dome she’d taken cover in numerous times, when it was a more friendly blue.

 _One_.

The heavy artillery shells landed in the concrete around her, glancing off the top of the dome. Closer, another heavy form landed in front of her, jumping down from the wall above. The Gibraltar. Definitely a rep, it didn’t so much as look back at her. All it did was move to the railing, shield up and gun levelled below, like a giant golem standing guard.

Another lighter impact followed, as the artillery shells exploded all around her. Bloodhound, kraber in a casual hip-fire hold. When she raised her spitfire to open fire on both of them in her last stand, the responding single shot seemed louder in their confined space than any artillery strike she’d ever called in or fallen victim to.

The kraber shot hit her square in the chest. She’d barely taken a step forward, but the impact of the point blank high-powered rifle shot threw her back into the wall with a force that her head took the brunt of, cracking back against the concrete.

She felt like a rubber ball bouncing against the wall as she rebounded forward onto her knees, the world in a haze of smoke and heat around her. Through the ringing in her ears she could barely hear the slow and purposeful steps of ‘Bloodhound’ approaching her. Their rifle stowed away onto their back now, with the glint of their hunting knife in their right hand as they grabbed for her.

Even though this wasn’t really them, Blóth was still a friend, someone Anita had fought alongside enough times to recognise their gait, even synthetically replicated. She’d watched them finish enemies enough times to know what this rep had in store for her.

They grabbed her by the collar, pulling her down onto the floor and wasted no time in kneeling over her. Even though Blood always had their eyes hidden by their goggles, you could always tell when they were looking at you. Looking up at this rep, Anita could see there was no light behind that eyewear, yet when she felt the point of the knife press against the fabric at her stomach, she could tell _something_ was different.

The rep lowered itself even closer to her, the vocal filter of the mask close enough to Anita’s ear that she could easily notice the disturbing lack of any air flow.

When the rep spoke, it wasn’t a replication of Bloodhounds voice she heard as she was expecting, but the distorted almost robotic tone of what might have been a recording, or at least a very poorly relayed live communication signal.

“ _Take care how you proceed_ ,” the voice began, warbled yet echoing, like the recording of a memory heard while underwater. The knife slowly pressed against Anita’s stomach with increasing pressure, punctuating each word. “ _Those who remain observe, and they send their regards_.”

The last time Anita was stabbed, she hadn’t noticed until later on after the fight when someone else saw the knife still sticking out of her side. This time, she didn’t feel anything. Had it even happened yet? She couldn’t tell. She wished she could see Ajay’s readout, at least know if Loba and Elliot had made it out, who knew if their tech was still compromised like Anita’s, if they would be sent up to the drop ship like any other game?

She could hear the distinctive sound of Loba’s jump drive nearby. She always thought it sounded like a blade unsheathing. _Good_ , she thought. _Get out of here_.

Only it seemed a lot closer than it should have been, coming towards rather than going away. Right beside her. Anita winced at the loud shot of what could only be a shotgun uncomfortably close to her head, felt the body above her be whipped away like paper in a windstorm. More shots, _bang, bang, bang_ , several more times. She tried to tilt her head back from her position on the floor, it was odd watching the large form of Gibraltar fall from this angle. She saw the death box he left, before the frame was taken up by legs she’d recognize anywhere.

Then she was between them, beneath, looking up at Loba whose expression was all business. A surprisingly strong arm slid underneath Anita’s back, and she was yanked up and held tightly against Loba’s chest, between her legs, that fantastic scent hitting her for the second time that day, seemingly keeping unconsciousness at bay.

“Hold on,” Loba ordered, "this is my first time." Anita could have sworn her tone took on a more mischievous note when she spoke next. “We need to be _very_ close for this next part.”

Anita had barely noticed the encroaching final ring. On top of everything that was happening, she barely knew her ass from her little gold circlet. Of course it was still on her head. When she heard the sound of the jump drive being tossed yet again, Anita thought she must be losing consciousness after all, hallucinating.

When she next looked around, however, she wasn’t on the concrete that had grown warm beneath her with the prolonged presence of her body and her very real blood pooling around her. Instead she could feel the wind more strongly, and on it she could smell the salt of the sea from beneath them. Looking to the right, she could see that she was on one of the two landing platforms of the airbase. Above her, Loba was the very picture of smugness and had an odd sort of heroic air about her that Anita hadn’t seen on her before. Her hair had finally begun to loosen from her usually impeccable braids, whipping around her face in the wind. She hadn’t bothered letting go of Anita.

“How did you-” the soldier began to ask, pointlessly looking around. The jump drive couldn’t double tap. Or carry more than one person. “How did we-?”

The loud computerised voice of the announcer cut her off. She barely registered the last few gunshots from behind them, or the camera drones as they hovered around the two of them, with some flying back towards where the last moments of the fight had taken place.

_We have our Apex Champions._

“I did say I was full of surprises.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I saw some concept art of Loba which prompted the flashback sequence at the beginning, here's the link if anyone wants to see [ https://apexlegends.gamepedia.com/File:Loba_concept_art_2.jpg ] 
> 
> It served as a handy little foreshadowing/hint at the hidden functions of Loba's tech I added, and I enjoyed Loba's POV. 
> 
> The game's finally over! Or is it? ;)


End file.
